


Wrong, So Wrong

by siephilde42



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siephilde42/pseuds/siephilde42
Summary: There is a kiss, and it is so wrong. It turns out that even after knowing each other for about 6,000 years, it is possible to drastically misunderstand each other.





	Wrong, So Wrong

You know that awful feeling when something you have yearned for for almost 6,000 years finally happens - and then you are too slow to react properly? No? Might just be a Crowley thing, then.

*

It had been a lovely lunch at the Ritz, and the two of them had gotten quite drunk. Which is understandable - stopping Armageddon and escaping retaliation from Heaven and Hell sure deserves a celebration. Somehow Aziraphale had managed to get more intoxicated than Crowley, even if the latter had, as so often, not eaten anything.

"We... we did a jolly... jolly good job, didn't we?", the angel asked, staggering so dangerously that Crowley linked arms with him to avoid him getting discorporated by stumbling onto the street and falling in the path of a car. _They surely wouldn't give him a new body now,_ the demon pondered.

"I... I mean, _look_ at that city. And the... all the lovely people. Some more than others, sure, but... _Look._ We helped save so much. All the res... restaurants, parks... fine dining, the taste of... of... wine, smell of spices,... flowers and trees, birdsong,..." He broke off and browsed the street for further examples. At the further end, there was a couple, casually kissing each other. _And kisses_ , Aziraphale thought. Shocked at his own train of thought, the angel stopped, almost causing Crowley to fall.

"Ah, what... why did you stop so suddenly? Everything alright with you, angel?", Crowley asked.

Instead of answering, Aziraphale just looked at him, a weird look on his face. When he leaned forward with a swift movement and placed his lips on Crowley's, it came as an absolute surprise. Before Crowley could recover from his surprise and possibly return the kiss, the angel pulled back, looking positively horrified.

"That's wrong. So wrong. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry", Aziraphale stammered and backed away, creating some distance between himself and Crowley.

 _Wrong?_ The thought echoed inside of Crowley, suffocating him. He wanted to protest. _No, no. What are you talking about? You cannot do this after 6,000 years. Please, no._

But instead of saying any of this aloud, he watched Aziraphale walking away, almost running.

Somehow, Crowley managed to hold his emotions in while making his way to his apartment. _I won't break down in front of all these humans. I just won't._ As soon as he had closed the door behind himself, his composure shattered, that is, he started screaming and turning over a good part of his furniture, breaking vases, chairs and the like. When he finally got exhausted from his fit and let himself slide down the wall, panting and heart beating wildly in his chest, he realised that he had also broke the statue depicting the "fight" between good and evil into pieces. Swallowing hard, he reached for a part of the angel wing and stared at it for a good while before starting sobbing, cradling the wing fragment in his arms.

*

Aziraphale caught himself glancing on the phone. _Should I call_ _him?_ , he wondered, once again. The demon hadn't called in two weeks, and every time he thought about how they had parted, he felt sick to his stomach. _If I were him, I sure would not want to be bothered by me_. He tried to focus on the book he was reading, but his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own and dashed back to the communication device. _But shouldn't I at least try to.. _.__ With an effort, he decided to switch to the sofa to get some peace of mind. The peace didn't last long, however, because of course, the sofa reminded him of Crowley. How many times had they sat down on the sofa and conversed about the most absurd things?

Before he could switch to another reading place, the bells of the bookshop jingled. For a short hopeful moment, he anticipated Crowley sauntering in, pretending that nothing had ever happened. But instead, it was Anathema Still-Device and Newton Pulsifer who came in. _Oh. Right. I had completely forgotten I gave them my business card._

"Hello", Anathema said. "We thought we would check in on you and your friend to make sure you were okay. I mean, your bosses weren't too enthusiastic about you foiling the - how did they call it - the great plan."

When Anathema called Crowley his "friend", his heart gave a painful pang. _Friends. I think I ruined that for good._ Long suppressed tears swelled up, and instead of trying to stop them, Aziraphale gave in to them and buried his face in his hands, sobbing hard. "Hey. What happened?" Anathema had sat down beside him and was now gently patting his arm. "Did they punish him?" Aziraphale sniffled and accepted the handkerchief Newt had offered him. "No. They tried to punish both of us, actually, but thanks to your ancestor, we knew how to escape the punishment. No. What happened is..." His voice trailed off and it took him several minutes before he could continue. "Um, I did... I did a rather stupid thing and now I'm afraid our friendship is done for."

The witch looked at him, startled. "Why? What did you do? Did you insult him or something?"

Aziraphale gave a desperate laugh. "Insult him? I did my fair share of this in the time we have known each other, but no. I got very drunk and... I, I actually _kissed_ him. I shouldn't have done that."

"You _what_?", Newt exclaimed.

"Yeah. And now he doesn't call or come over. I... I don't know how we can stay friends after that."

"So, if he doesn't reach out, why don't _you_ call him?", Anathema asked, sensible as ever.

"I... I don't dare to. I don't think he wants anything to do with me now."

"How long have you been friends?", Anathema pressed.

"Uh... I needed some time to admit that we were friends, but in fact... about 6,000 years."

She whistled. "6,000 years, and you think that one single rash action can destroy this? At any rate, if you have been friends that long and what you did was wrong, you owe him an apology, at least. You should call on him."

Something in Aziraphale's chest untangled. "You know, you're right. I will go over right now, before I change my mind."

_*_

Standing in front of the house which contained Crowley's apartment, Aziraphale was very close to changing his mind again. _What if he throws me out without even listening to me? What if..._ Suddenly, he got angry at himself. "Stop it, you fool. You had the courage to go and try to stop the apocalypse. You certainly should have the guts to do this. Get your act together, Angel of Eden."

His knocks at the apartment door stayed unanswered. "Crowley. Are you in there?" He sighed. "Crowley, if you are home, could you please answer me?" _Maybe he isn't home? Well, let me just check_. He turned up his acoustical sensitivity and focused on the flat. There was, unmistakably, a fluttering heartbeat, accompanied by laboured breathing. _Okay. I really shouldn't do this, but..._ With a flick of his hand, the door swung open, revealing a scene which seemed to come straight from a horror movie.

_What... what the... good lord._

"Crowley!", he shouted at the picture of misery cowering in one corner of the living room which was blacked out - all windows were covered with dark shades - and full of trash, dirt and fragments of different sorts. The flat looked like hell and stank like it, too. "Crowley, why for heaven's sake did you transform your nice, clean apartment into a... a... sort of miniature hell?"

The demon didn't answer instantly but gave him a very cold look first. "Must be getting nostalgic", he said in a flat voice.

" _Nostalgic?_ You _hate_ Hell. Why did you do this?"

" _Why?_ You are just the most stupid creature in existence, aren't you?" Crowley was almost yelling, but didn't get up.

"Maybe I am, because I don't understand. So, care to explain it to me?"

"You _kissed_ me, and then pulled back and told me that it was _wrong._ That it is wrong for angels and demons to care for each other."

"I never said that!", the angel protested.

"But that's what you meant."

"No! No. What I meant was that it was wrong to kiss you without permission! ... Hang on. You..." He broke off and stared at Crowley in disbelief. "You transformed your flat into a miserable pit because you thought I was... _rejecting_ you?..." The angel closed his eyes, recalling their countless encounters.

Crowley gazing at him while he eats.  
Them sitting on a bench together.  
Them raising a boy together.  
Crowley saving him, several times.  
Crowley _saving his books._

"Oh. _Oh._ " Aziraphale opened his eyes again. "I really am the most stupid creature of them all, am I not?" He blinked and looked around, realising that the flat was as it had been before, all white and stylish - apparently Crowley had miracled it into its old state during his flashbacks.

Crowley's voice was but a hoarse whisper. "Yes. Yes, you are." He had stood up now, stepping a little closer to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale stammered. "I'm... I'm so sorry. I..."

"Just shut up and kiss me again, angel."

This time, neither of them pulled back.

 ~~THE END~~ THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING WONDERFUL

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Wrong, So Wrong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852411) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)




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